


Nightmares

by Trewestriandta



Series: Blessing or a Curse [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-23 00:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10708341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trewestriandta/pseuds/Trewestriandta
Summary: To prevent a demon army from enslaving the world, the Inquisition moves to take Adamant. But at what cost?





	1. His Worst

**Author's Note:**

> @RogueLioness: is this what you expected from me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen prepares to assault Adamant.

As a young Templar Cullen had learned how to be a jailer to a placid Tower, after Kinloch fell and was recovered he had been sent to Kirkwall. There he got his real education on how to think as more than a glorified prison guard. The city itself held no room for fools or mercy for the weak, though Cullen had always found a silver lining in folks like Lady Elegant,  or even that free Healer he'd heard about in Dark Town that he always had 'suspicions' about. 

Cullen had spent hours researching all he could about Qunari battle tactics as he advanced,  all too aware of how astonishing a Sten could be; he'd seen it up close. That determined studiousness had helped after three years of stifling peace. With Rena Hawke flitting about putting out as many fires as she inevitably stirred up; basically causing both Carver and Cullen no end of grief with her antics. But seeing how quickly Kirkwall had fallen to the Arishok's assault had left Cullen staggeringly unsettled.

His growing anxiety left him with many sleepless nights to approach learning defence on a military scale. It offered all new insights on how to protect the people of Kirkwall as well as his charges within the Gallows. It was Meredith's mistake to think that the mages were the problem, as opposed to being their people. After Hawke fled Kirkwall, Cullen had resigned from the Templars and offered his time as a volunteer to Aveline's city Guard. He had become anonymous until Cassandra and Leliana came to the city asking questions. Cullen, Varric, and Merrill, Hawke's remaining companions had all conveniently avoided each other despite his association with the Guard Captain. That ended when he told the Seeker and Nightingale his report of events; editing out the time spent after the battle with Rena.

Despite Cullen's staggering lack of experience leading a force larger than a unit of Templars, they needed his help. Cassandra was a Seeker,  solitary and unrelenting, Leliana only more razor sharp; they were even less inclined for handling  a possible army. But Cullen was sympathetic to the fledgling Inquisition and he had the ever growing need to do something about the broken state of the world. He studied every treatise or lecture on strategy and historical battles he could. He'd felt mediocre but supported and ready.

Cullen hadn't been at the Conclave because his presence was still seen as too controversial and that had saved his life. Attending Adamant as the Commander of the Inquisition’s Army, Cullen felt untested but prepared. This wasn't a battle they could fail,  because to do so meant letting a demon army tear apart the world his daughter lived in. And he was not going to let that happen. He felt guilt over the Wardens that would be lost to this, or were already lost; they already sacrificed so much and here they were being corrupted despite their best efforts. He knew exactly how that felt.

"Commander, I leave it in your hands." The Inquisitor complimented before leaving, seemingly unaffected by the weight of it all. He'd already outlined all the planned assault lines and strategies,  her Advisors had all been prepped and the team Nira Lavellan was brining as her primary was ready. All that was needed were an entry point and then a sustained assault to get them in. 

Cullen's battle plan and his army could crack Adamant open, but it was up to the Inquisitor's team to get to the centre and end this before too many lives were lost. And he couldn't go with them to help, it was Cullen's duty to try and strip Adamant of its defences so that the Inquisitor could focus on her task and trust the army at her backside to keep a safe way out. And Cullen trusted the Inquisitor to be capable, especially supported by the team she'd chosen. Solas had a personal interest in keeping Nira alive and he was a capable mage, Cassandra was a formidable warrior and aware of Cullen's overall battle plans, and Varric’s presence was actually helping settle Cullen's anxiety. Because Rena Hawke was going on this team with Warden Alistair,  both of them trying to help right this terrible wrong. Varric would watch Hawke's back, Cullen knew that but it was still a harrowing idea for Cullen to know Rena was shortly charging into a hostile castle.

"You have that worried frown on your face again Cheri." Hawke's easy nonchalance made him smile.

"Don't be the first through the gate once it's breached," he couldn't help but warn, "in most scenarios the first body through the gate is killed by the ready defenders on the otherside." He would start to babble in a moment and they both knew it. Rena kissed him to shut down his chattering nerves.

"I'm going to be fine; your army is going to flatten demonic Wardens and I'll hold the Inquisitor's flower while she kicks ass. Then we can go home and see how much the nugget missed us." 

He smiled, arms curling around her waist as she stayed pressed against him. "I'm fairly certain Lady Montilyet and Leliana will be more glad to see us than Ruth will be." He teased lightly, knowing  it was harder on Rena to be away from their daughter.

"Hey she's the one who started to prefer mushy peas and food instead of breast milk. I'm just glad my poor nipples are getting a break." Rena shrugged.

Cullen hugged her closer, resting his cheek against her head. Rena's impossibly red hair was warm and soft and smelled good. He kissed her lightly while she snuggled against him and then Varric walked in unannounced a moment after Cullen had tipped Hawke's chin up to kiss her. 

"You know what," the Dwarf demanded before either Cullen or Rena could realize he'd intruded. "I'm not even the littlest bit surprised. But when Broody and Blondie find out about you two,  I'm not the one dealing with it." He didn't sound angry at least. 

"Yeah, yeah, you called this before the whole Winter Palace thing," Rena laughed to Cullen's surprise.

"Oh I saw this coming from the moment Curly kissed you on the battlements Hawke." Varric grinned. "Nira wants us Hawke.  Sorry Curly, duty calls." Varric gave him an approving look.

Cullen didn't see Hawke again before the battle commenced. The Inquisitor and her team set out from the meeting Nira called so Cullen spent the night before Adamant alone. Given no other distraction,  Cullen found himself praying until exhaustion drove him to bed.

Rena heard the scream of the first soldier through the gate and felt a small tinge of guilt. Cullen had been right, but seconds later the Inquisition soldiers breached Adamant's gates completely and the Inquisitor’s team moved in. Solas and Rena had pre-arranged for the Elvhen mage to cover barrier duties while Rena would take gross assault. With her bow and arrow, she had a ridiculously long range of damage for her fire and lightning spells. Nira took care of keeping the enemy forces scattered; her abilities in spirit magic unrivalled. Cassandra and Varric made sure that by the time different mages moved through, it was over the corpses of the dead. 

All around Rena could hear the cacophony of war, a sound she'd heard well over a decade ago and thought long forgotten. This time Carver wasn't at her side, instead he was keeping their friends safe since Rena couldn't, but Varric was. Cassandra was an impressive warrior but there were moments Rena ached to hear Fenris or persistent Aveline. And she had no faith in Solas, something about his icy cold disdain left her on edge always.

Cassandra taunted and charged ahead, Rena taking the opportunity to shoot an arrow off and ignite a firewall that kept the enscrolled Wardens back. The demons came charging through regardless. Varric would sweep the mage Wardens with knockout powder, the goal always to reduce Warden loss because of the Arch Demon. Nira was a master at evoking panic or confusion,  helping to subdue the remaining Warrior or Rogue Wardens that hadn't been sacrificed to the cause yet.

One of the late trebuchets fired as they tried to cross an upper walkway and Rena felt a shard of rock tear across her cheekbone. A heartbeat later barrier flushed over them all, Solas only a half second slower than physics. As blood dripped down her cheek she tried not to hold it against him. When a Shriek took a swipe at Varric and it was only the thieves lantern that kept him alive, Rena decided to stop thinking like who she'd grown into and sink back into how she was when she became Champion. Right here and right now were all that could matter to her; not concern over Cullen outside with thousands of combatants between them, or Ruth back at Skyhold with hundreds of kilometres between them.

Hawke fired arrows, half as many powered by spells as were just intended to incapacitate, and Rena hit areas missed by Varric's sweep or Solas' blizzard action. Lightning was too risky with Cassandra engaged with the enemy, but fire was useful once the Inquisitor got an enemy to isolate themselves. Though the smell got to be a bit much sometimes. Nira drove them on step by gruesome step. When possible, Alistair had convinced his fellow Wardens to stand down,  but Erimond had the mind of the mages  completely enthralled. 

Things got a little screwy once they actually got into the heart of Adamant though. For one thing, there was a giant Rift trying to regurgitate itself into life. To her eyes it looked like the worst parts of a decomposing corpse bleeding into the very air, but it was so much worse to her magic sense. Nira also flinched but Solas remained as stoic as always. Fucking Egghead. Cassandra stood as Vanguard, ready to take on any aggressor to buy the Inquisitor time to speak.

Somehow Nira talked Claret into doubting Erimond, maybe not enough to be entirely useful in time, but the old Warden gave it one hell of a go. But it seems there was still only so much a single Warden could do against Corypheus' Archdemon when no one was expecting it. So far only Corypheus had been able to command the Dragon,  so for the moment Rena didn't hold it against the old bird. Especially when even bitten in half, Clarel managed to have enough spite left inside her to explode; literally. If the bridge under her feet hadn't collapsed out from under her because of it, Rena would have been impressed.

\---

The front line had steadily moved in after the gates were breached; Adamant had been built before modern seize equipment. Cullen hadn't been prepared emotionally for his battle plans to succeed without failure or devastating losses; so when his command line moved in, he didn't resist the urge to overwhelm Adamant entirely.  So many Wardens had been talked out of their suicidal actions and Cullen had his soldiers lead out surrendered troops. 

But demons never surrender. As often as possible Cullen had intermingled the soldiers from Haven with experience against demons with those that had none. It paid off for some but he felt each blow as the soldiers of the Inquisition fell, and there was no joy found in felling commanded Wardens. 

The moment Cullen had heard the first shriek of the Dragon, he had forgotten everything except his worry for Rena. As others stared upwards in frozen fear, he charged ahead at a full run, already knowing he would be far too late to save her. Cullen remembered the pain and fear as he'd hurried through a broken Kirkwall with Rena Hawke bleeding in his arms. He had started on a path that day that led to this moment and as terrible as parts of the past year had been he wouldn't change them for the world.

Just like he wouldn't ever get the image of that fall out of his head. Cullen had charged stairs and broken battlements,  actively hurtling over corpses he couldn't spare time to look at. The sounds of that beast shrieking would definitely act as soundtrack for his nightmares, but he suspected that the horrid grating of stone on stone as the bridge collapsed would haunt him too. Warden Alistair disappeared from view first, Cullen was peripherally aware of that but his focus was on the Champion that had stolen his heart. Rena had scrambled ahead but even still it wasn't enough. Cullen was far enough away to have no hope of saving her and close enough to see the fear in her eyes as she suddenly dropped from sight. And he hated that he couldn't run to the edge; a bright flash of green drove him to his knees, eyes blinded even as his throat tore with the scream let loose.

That wretched Archdemon lived. He could hear it's shriek even as he blinked to get the vision back into his eyes. Footsteps thundered towards him but Cullen levelled his sword, vision still too ruined to tell if it was friend or foe. "Maker's Balls." Blackwall's gruff curse eased Cullen's sword down.

"They're gone." Cullen's voice sounded so hollow that he wasn't actually sure he'd spoken until Blackwall spun to stare at him in horror. "The Rift in the courtyard is still active, we'll have to arrange a defensive line against whatever comes through." Cullen forced himself to his feet,  the pain in his chest not likely to fade soon but the Inquisition still had to stop a demon army. Even if it had just lost it's Inquisitor; they still had a world to try and defend.

His bones hurt, each joint echoing the grind of the collapsing bridge. The mages under control were subdued wherever possible but far too many still fell under blade and arrow. Cullen tapped into long unused talents as a Templar and shut down as many as he could but unless he used his phylter,  he had damnable little to offer. The very thought sickened him so Cullen merely spit the sour from his mouth and kept fighting on against the growing tide.

Wraths scratched against his sheild even as Cullen drove them to dust under his blade. His boots slipped on ichor and blood and of course it started to rain. That was fine. Thunder cracked across the sky as the Rift in the courtyard once again pulsed as something came across, but Cullen nearly staggered to his knees when it was Solas and Cassandra to come charging across.

Behind them more demons chased, pursuing them from one side of the Fade to the other it seemed. Cullen had to help fell a lesser Pride that had cackled it's way into view; he only knew that Varric had come through when a familiar crossbow bolt flew over his shoulder. Electricity from the Pride had Cullen's complete attention as it licked across the side of his armour,  pulling a scream from him until Inquisition soldiers brought it down. Cullen shrugged off the pain as much as possible and turned to see Nira Lavellan closing the Rift entirely.

Cullen didn't feel his fingers loosen around the hilt of his sword, and he didn't hear the clatter as his sheild followed suit. His chest burned, body paralysed and unable to breathe as his knees hit the dirt; seeing the last person to make it out behind the Inquisitor before the Rift closed. 


	2. Her Worst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition has felled the demon army and claimed Adamant. But not without sacrifice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows immediately after the previous chapter.

Cullen never expected the sight of a Gray Warden’s shield to break his heart and fill him with dread, but today it happened. He couldn’t look away from it, his entire focus on the scratched and dented metal. He’d seen Alistair carrying that shield back in Kinloch, had known he’d kept it even after the Hero had died and Alistair was made the Warden Commander in Ferelden. Cullen had even remarked on its familiarity when Alistair had joined them after Crestwood. He never expected to hate seeing it again. Even as his heart shattered to pieces, the soldier inside him understood; they were in the middle of a war where the fate of the entire world literally depended on them stopping a demon army led by a Darkspawn Magister. Not everyone was going to survive.

And then Rena Hawke shouldered Alistair’s shield and threw herself at Cullen and everything else stopped existing. “I couldn’t…” she was crying and Cullen didn’t care that they were a spectacle. “He…oh Maker...” she tucked her head against his shoulder and Cullen could feel Rena shake with emotion as he held her tightly.

Still standing, seeming as untouched as ever, Nira Lavellan addressed the collected Wardens and Inquisition soldiers. Alistair had been lost but Cullen didn’t listen to the Inquisitor’s explanation, he couldn’t hear anything past the pounding of his heart in his chest as it remembered to beat again, nor over the sounds of distress and pain that Hawke kept breathing into his shoulder despite lacking any evident wounds. Still, the Champion needed only another moment before she composed herself.

“We were cut off.” Hawke quietly explained as she pulled away from Cullen so they could stand again. “Alistair, me and Nira. And I knew… I knew one of us needed to stay and be a distraction. I…” her eyes were so heartbroken as she looked at him. “I knew that I should be the one to stay; I failed to kill Corypheus the first time and the Inquisitor is going to NEED the Wardens. But I couldn’t.” she looked so small suddenly, her physical size often forgotten for how larger than life her reputation was. “And he wouldn’t let me.” Even as the Army around them was shouting and cheering and celebrating, Rena and Cullen remained a pocket of isolation to themselves. Not even Nira approached, though she watched from a distance.

“Alistair handed me his shield and told me that he’s been waiting ten years to be with her again, and he wasn’t going to let you endure that while raising our daughter alone.” Rena managed to hold her emotions in check but Cullen understood them entirely.

Eleven years ago Alistair, Warden Surana, and their companions had come to save Kinloch and Cullen had started on this path. But their victory against the Blight had ended in Pia Surana’s death and Warden Alistair was forced to go on without his partner at his side. Eight years ago Cullen had recruited Carver Hawke to the Templars and watched Rena Hawke crawl out of the Deep Roads half dead and entirely determined. Five years ago he had been saved and the Champion was given her title. Two years ago Anders had blown up the Chantry, and Rena and Cullen had incidentally made Ruth. Then the Inquisition started to develop and Cullen felt like his purpose was to fix the world he may have helped to break. And then the Conclave happened. And then Haven fell. The Winter Palace. And now Adamant. He could have lost her at any of those times or vice versa and it seemed painfully unavoidable now that inevitably one of them would die horribly. Cullen still thanked the Maker to have Rena alive and here with him again.

“In war victory, in peace vigilance, in death sacrifice.” Cullen muttered the motto Alistair had lived and ultimately died by.

Rena nodded, looking sad but a growing fire of determination in her eyes again. “I’ll need to go to Weisshaupt to help the Wardens.” She stated simply and Cullen understood the need she felt. The obligation was a literal weight on her back, embodied in Alistair’s shield. He had done his duty, but he was trusting Rena to help him do more even past his death.

“But not yet.” Cullen all but begged from her. He couldn’t expect her to come back to Skyhold to then turn around and head out to Weisshaupt from there; he was a love struck fool not an idiot. But Cullen needed to hold Rena a little longer before he would feel safe knowing that she had survived; that his worst nightmare had not actually come to pass. When Varric caught Cullen’s eye and gave a head jerk indicating that he leave with Hawke, Cullen didn’t bother hesitating.

This wasn’t the first time Cullen had hurried with Rena Hawke after an army had been felled, but unlike after the Arishok neither one was physically wounded. Just emotionally battered. He had fallen apart at the belief of her death and couldn’t help but now felt as resurrected as she even though neither had actually died.

“Cheri, you’re shaking.” Rena soothed after Cullen held the tent flap open while she ducked inside.

His tent was large due to it being the Command tent, though his bedroll was tucked out of the way with the map table out. For a portable table it was sturdy and solid, but still it groaned as he leaned heavily against it. Hawke was actually worried now, her silence more telling than any pestering could be. He wanted to pray, give thanks that she was alive. He felt the pressure of tears but none fell.

Cullen opened his mouth to explain his emotional turmoil and instead said, “Convince me you’re really alive. Please be really alive.” His voice was ragged and Cullen wasn’t surprised when she kissed him. They’d become regular lovers and still he felt astonished at her passion. Rena Hawke tasted like adrenaline, copper, the salt of earned sweat, and an echo of the same desperation driving him.

Rena stepped back, a wicked smile dancing on her lips to match the reckless abandon in her eyes. He’d set her a challenge and Cullen knew that Champion would deliver. She turned him by the shoulders and lightly pushed him back against the map table. It wouldn’t support his entire weight, but Cullen had leaned against it numerous times. He set his hands on the table edge on either side of his hips and watched as Hawke stood before him, stripped off her weapons and armour, and then literally burned her ichor dripping clothes into ash with a casual ease that left him breathless. He’d known her power but he’d never seen such profound control; he didn’t even feel a change in temperature though she stood an arm’s reach away.

As Rena stood proudly bared the ash drifted to the floor and Cullen surprised her by stepping forwards to unclip his weapons and armour, the important bits saved before he said, “My turn, Champion.” He stood with a smile and his arms outstretched.

The tingle of barrier coated his skin, sealing him away from the fire that danced through the clothes on his body. The obvious joy and pleasure in her eyes was all the warning he got as the fire stopped and she threw herself at him. Having an astonishing archer hurtle herself at him was not a bad part of his day at all.

Her mouth chased across his lips in frantic kisses even as she wrapped her legs around his waist. And when she bit his bottom lip, he didn’t resist chuckling and gripped her hair tightly, trying to slow her onslaught. She was three stone lighter than he was, so Cullen turned, used his arm to knock all the items off of the table, and laid her on top of the map. Now it was Rena laughing.

Right up until Cullen dragged his thumb across her bottom lip, and her tongue chased after it. He felt a light smirk settle on his face as he stroked his fingers down the column of her throat and could feel her pulse racing. He put more pressure behind the touch, adding his other hand to literally massage at the muscles of her shoulders and chest. Rena’s groans helped his stiffening cock throb fully to life, but Cullen focused on the persistent swirls of his fingers instead. He had to call upon a lifetime of training and discipline, but his control didn’t break. Under his hands he could feel the rise and fall of her breathing, the writhing of muscles and flesh just under the skin, and the constant jabbing punch of her very much still beating heart. She was alive and real, and even though he was the one standing she had complete command of him and he knew it.

It became harder to focus on the act of massaging her as her nipples pebbled under his chafing, the soft skin of her breast a damn hard lure to resist. He could see the darkening russet flush to Hawke’s sienna skin, and the smell of her growing arousal tormented him; his control cracking as he couldn’t resist returning to her breasts and nipples for a more thorough massage.

“Please!” Rena gasped as he forced himself away from her breasts to massage into the solid strength of her abdomen.

He didn’t still his hands, hearing her throaty whine as he worked the muscles framing her navel and above her pubis. When he tried to skip over her hips and focus on the muscles of her thighs instead, she actually grabbed his hair and pulled his face close to hers.

“If you don’t hurry up I will start making loud, demanding noises. We are in a tent in the middle of your army Cullen and I am not shy.” Hawke warned with a feverish intensity in her eyes.

So he kissed her almost chastely with her hands buried in the chaotic curls on his head. “Make all the noise you want Hawke. I don’t care. I want them all to know that I’m in here, with you.” He spoke softly despite his words.

“And we’re both very much alive, and rather conveniently naked.” Hawke pointed out in support and Cullen laughed lightly.

“That we are. I might have a plan for what to do with those facts.” He warned before kissing her again, this time much less chastely.

Once again Cullen stroked his fingers across Rena’s body but this time it wasn’t a teasing massage. He kissed along her jaw to the ticklish spot just behind her ear even as his hands spread goose bumps down her skin. The breathy gasp Hawke let escape as his fingers continued down her belly to trace through her curls and finally stroke along her clit was the best kind of victory cry.

His teeth grazed at her pulse even as his fingers slid into her body, the wetness of her arousal warm and slick on his hand. When Cullen nipped at her collarbone, Rena shuddered lightly, her body holding tight to the fingers he massaged inside of her. Another throaty whine pulled out of her almost reluctantly as he stilled his fingers inside, only to deliberately trace his thumb across her clit even as he dropped his lips to the skin beside her nipple.

Cullen fully expected Rena Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, to get as loud as she promised she would. Instead he seemed to have stunned the sounds right out of her; the soft gasps she let loose were barely audible even to him as he alternated between stinging bites of his teeth and soothing lathes of his tongue. His thumb traced out meaningless shapes against her clit, never enough to let Hawke build to a proper orgasm even though he felt her body trying to seek out the needed friction to do so, and Cullen switched his mouth to her other breast.

And like their first night together Hawke once again started to gasp out broken pieces of the Chant. Canticle of Trials if he was understanding the words through the breathiness and moaning, and Cullen laughed.

“I cannot see the path. Perhaps there is only abyss. Trembling, I step forward, In darkness enveloped.”

And with the end of that verse he couldn’t resist. Enveloped in darkness indeed; his mouth left her breast to lift to her lips, silencing her badly recited Chant even as he pulled his fingers free from her body to replace it with the length of his very eager cock. The sounds Hawke cried into his mouth were definitely praises to the Maker.

Her legs wrapped around his hips tightly, keeping him anchored deeply even as she continued to grip her fingers into his hair. He could feel the small circles Rena’s hips made, subconscious movements to seek out more pressure and friction. So he left the kiss to whisper against her ear,

“There was no word For heaven or for earth, for sea or sky. All that existed was silence. Then the Voice of the Maker rang out, The first Word, And His Word became all that might be: Dream and idea, hope and fear, Endless possibilities.”

He didn’t given the Champion a chance to retort though; instead he left the playful lovemaking behind and gripped her hips carefully. They could play for a thousand years into the future later, but right now he needed the hot sweat and pounding heartbeat of being frantically alive. And Rena was more than willing to give that to him.

Now the sounds Hawke made were more audible, as were his own. The wet slick and slap as he thrust into her was shocking, never consistent as sometimes he pushed into her on an angle sometimes straight, often alternating the pace to keep her body in anticipation. Rena’s grip left his hair to drag feline sharp nails across the muscles of his back and shoulders and the burning trails left behind spurred him on more.

They were abundantly, ardently alive and together and Cullen stopped thinking about anything but this moment and the Champion holding onto him so dearly. And then Rena let out an undeniably ecstatic wail of pleasure, loud enough that others were guaranteed to have heard it even as Cullen groaned while his body chased her pleasure.

Cullen panted for breath, feeling the echoing pulses of Hawke’s orgasm still rippling around his body. “Do you feel I’m alive now Commander?” Hawke couldn’t seem to resist taunting him, even as her breath wheezed in and out.

“You might have to keep convincing me until sunrise.” Cullen smiled, recognizing the conversation from what felt like a very long time ago. So she did just that; though they did eventually make it to the bedroll, the map table might not have survived much longer.

Saying goodbye to her in the early morning hours was harder than he had ever imagined. Neither one knew how long it would take the Champion to convince Weisshaupt of all that had gone on here, though Hawke was travelling with signed messages from the Inquisitor to help corroborate her tale. She would also be using the opportunity to bring them Warden Commander Alistair’s service shield, repaying the last of her duty to the man that had sacrificed himself so she could come home to Cullen and Ruth. And there was one last thing Cullen wanted her to take with her, but hopefully this would be the easiest token for her to keep.

“The day I left for Templar training, my brother ‘just happened’ to have this on him and he gave it to me, saying that it was a lucky coin.” Cullen dug out the worn bit of metal, knowing that the sharp edges stamped into it had been worn down years ago from his own worrying. “Humour me; you don’t know what you may face before the end. This ‘lucky coin’ may not have brought me only good luck, but I am still alive. I expect it to bring you back to me in the same condition.” Cullen felt relieved when he put the coin in Rena’s palm.

Rena Hawke looked down at the coin before closing her fingers around in. “I’ll bring it back to you as soon as possible Cheri.” Her other hand lifted up to cup his jaw lightly. “And you better be in perfect condition when I get back because I have plans now that we’re not trying to be subtle anymore.” Her smirk lacked the lasciviousness Cullen expected with those words. “And Cullen…watch your back. The Inquisitor… she’s pretty intense.” She gave an almost awkward laugh. “For a moment there I wasn’t sure she was going to tell Alistair he was the one staying, and this war isn’t over yet.” Cullen carefully nodded, wondering just what it was that had happened in the Fade to make Rena Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, fear Nira Lavellan.

Watching her walk out of camp into the desert, alone and almost unnoticeable, Cullen felt like maybe, just maybe if they could both make it to the other side of this alive they might actually find happiness. But first he had to lead the Inquisition’s armies against the forces of a Darkspawn Magister while Rena had to warn the Wardens that their order had been corrupted and all but collapsed. When he pulled his armour on, Cullen wasn’t even surprised to see that Hawke had stolen his belt dagger and replaced it with one of her own. She would be in his mind and heart, her weapon would help guard his back, and soon Cullen would have his family whole again. All he had to do was help Nira Lavellan win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an epilogue for them but as it spoils some of Nira's stories, I can't post it yet.  
> I'll just have to start posting Nira's shorts.


End file.
